


sweat

by ackermom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, NSFW, PWP, Pegging, that's all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermom/pseuds/ackermom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The frame squeaks as Sasha pushes into Jean, harder, hotter, and moans a nameless sound into the summer heat. // jeansasha pegging //</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alsoalsowik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alsoalsowik/gifts).



> it's literally just jeansasha pegging that's it

Summer broils around them; hot air wafts in through the window, plunging the bedroom into the fiery throes of a July afternoon, and sweat pools on the bed around them, staining the sheets and sliding down their skin.

He kisses her, reeling in the heat; his teeth grab at her bottom lip, snatching at her skin, and she hums at his touch. He sucks on the skin of her lips, leaving her mouth red and restless, and she reacts fervently, clawing at his shoulders and whispering his name. He chuckles. The laugh reverberates in his chest and she smiles, kissing him again as her hands trail across his hot skin. Her fingers trace over the sweat on his chest, and he reaches up, brushing damp, frizzled bangs from her forehead. Their skin sticks together as they clutch; he holds himself against her, murmuring, and then with one strong push-

“Oh god,” Jean breathes.  

His back scrapes against the sheets as Sasha bends over him, her lips curling into a smirk. Loose strands of dark hair fall over her shoulders as she leans forward, bending close as she can. She kisses him again, hot and heavy, pulling a groan from his lips and smiling into him. 

"You like?" she murmurs, wiggling her hips, and Jean bites his lip, eyes fluttering shut.

"Oh god. Oh my god." 

Sasha digs one hand into the mattress, the loose sheets bundling up under her fingers, and her other hand crawls over Jean’s face, trailing up his neck until it comes to cup his chin, leading him into another kiss. 

"I didn’t think," he starts, murmuring, his eyes still shut. He hesitates, tongue faltering, and then he opens his eyes and stares at her. 

"More?" she asks, and he nods. 

She drops her other hand to clench the mattress and she hovers over Jean, sweat beads trickling down her bare breasts. With his legs hoisted around her waist, Sasha peers down at him, a tiny smile blooming on her lips. “Ready?” she purrs, and Jean grimaces.

"Yes, god, just hurry up, just- ah…"

Sasha drops her head and breathes, one hand coming to grab at Jean’s waist, to steady herself as she moves, easing her hips forward to hear him moan; his eyes clench shut and he covers them with splayed fingers, his breath coming in deep, heavy strides. He grasps at Sasha’s shoulders, digs his fingernails into her back as she pushes into him, then pulls out, and then lets herself back in, murmuring to him all the while. His fingers spasm over his eyes, and they come together, trailing down his face, wiping away hot sweat under his hand collapses on his chest, balled up and weak. 

"Mm," Sasha murmurs, bending to kiss his chin. She jerks her hips upward, just a slight movement, but Jean cries out, his hand flying up to slap at her shoulder and clutch at her skin. 

"Oh my god," he exclaims, clenching his eyes shut. "Oh god,  _Sasha_ …”

She smirks again, and she rolls her hips back, clutching both hands at his waist; she rises, throwing herself back to sit on her heels. Her breasts bounce, and Jean’s hands fall from her shoulders to brush against her hips, her hips that move again, in and out, as she whispers his name and he cries hers. 

She rolls her hips again, heaving his thighs higher, the sweat of his skin against hers. Jean mutters a low, “fuck,” and digs his thumbs into her hipbones, pressing harder as she thrusts deeper. 

Above, the ceiling fan rattles; it whirls, round and round, shuttering with every spin. Below, the bed creaks; the frame squeaks as Sasha pushes into Jean, harder, hotter, and moans a nameless sound into the summer heat. She fucks him into the mattress, shoving and pulling and jerking, and she drops her hands again, once more bending over him. Her breasts brush against him, her lips hovering above his, and their noses collide, sweat dripping from each of their foreheads. Jean’s hips follow hers, back and forth, and his hands trail over her back, up to clutch at her shoulders, moaning her name against her lips. 

She fucks him, more, hotter, her lips brushing over his jaw, her stomach pressing into his, her hips jerking back and forth, until Jean’s eyes close and his fingers sink into her skin and he comes with trembling thighs, a guttural groan from his lips, a quiver in his stomach. 

Sasha slows; she hovers over his lips and bends to kiss them, her hot skin against his. The kiss is wet and messy, but Sasha smiles into it before easing her hips back and pulling out. 

She rolls over, collapsing into the damp sheets beside him, and curls up on her side, fumbling with the straps around her waist. Jean lies back, breathless, and watches the ceiling fan rotate. The heat smothers them there, caught in the aftermath, and Jean slaps a hand to his forehead, trailing it down to catch all the sweat on his skin. 

"This whole room smells like sweat," he groans. 

Sasha perches herself on one elbow and watches him, smirking. “Is that all you’re gonna say?” she teases, and Jean rolls his head to look at her. 

A slow smile eases itself onto his face. “I didn’t think,” he says, drawing heavy breaths, “that I’d like that.”

Sasha grins, and she reaches across to poke his nose. “But you did. Admit it, you did.”

"I did," Jean exclaims. He curls his legs up, clutching his knees to his stomach, and stares up at the ceiling again. "God, I feel weird. But that was good. That was like- really fucking good."

"Good," Sasha breathes. She traces one hand across his forehead, brushing away sweaty hair, and he glances over at her, smiling. "Because I want to do it again."


End file.
